


Sibling Rivalry

by NeverGoodbye



Series: Shadowfury [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Meta, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverGoodbye/pseuds/NeverGoodbye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a main becomes an alt, there's sure to be some hard feelings in the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sibling Rivalry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wagontrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagontrain/gifts).



 

 

_Tap tap tap_. Nephthys’ fingernails tapped absentmindedly on the stone counter of the bank while she stared into her bank bags’ contents. Her mind had drifted off, forgetting what she was even looking for. It hardly seemed important. She’d been stuck in the Undercity for weeks now, without even so much as a _quest_ to keep her entertained.

Exasperated, she closed her bank without withdrawing anything. “Watch your back,” comes the Undead’s automatic response but she doesn’t so much as glance back at him. She wandered up toward the mailbox but it was only a rote response. She might as well track more loops around the city map in her boredom, for all the good that will do her.

She pulled out a sheet of paper and quill and began writing a letter. And she hadn’t noticed before, but now that it’s quiet and she’s trying to concentrate, the innane chatter around her is unbearable. The local populace is arguing among themselves about which murloc-substituted movie is most clever and, _Dark Lady_!, someone wanted 5k gold for a Primordial Saronite. _Where have they been since the last patch?_ She grumbled. She wished she could /ignore all of Azeroth sometimes.

And just as she’s about to crumble up the paper and set it on fire when a familiar shape came bounding toward her. It’s a blood elf, with bright red hair pulled back into a ponytail and huge glittering gold hoop earrings. Of course, it’s hard to see the earrings over the _massive glowing spiked pauldrons_ she’s wearing, but Nephthys knows they’re there because she’s always hated them. Always hated the mage’s flair for fashion and extravagance and barely concealed sexuality.

“Hello Faeliya.” Nephthys said civilly. _Whore_, she added under her breath, less civilly.

“Hiya Nephthys!” The mage echoed back. She threw an arm around the warlock and pulled her close.

Nephthys cringed, partly from the display and partly because there was a huge glowing red orb of fire from the mage’s gear that was about _three millimeters_ away from her face. She pulled away from the embrace and straightened out her dress. But in doing so, she realized that the mage looked little different from the last time she’d seen her. “Did you get a new robe?”

“Oh, this?” Faeliya pulled the skirt out a little to accentuate its magical embroidery and the rows of intricate embellishments. “Oh, I just traded in some emblems for it last night,” she explains. Her words were nonchalant but the tone behind them was clearly meant to make Nephthys jealous. “_Frost _emblems,” she added. _The best_, she meant.  The warlock ground her hands into fists as she bit back her irritation. Aside from her inflammatory speech, the mage seemed oblivious to the warlock’s resentment.

“Is there a _reason_ you’re here?” Nephthys finally asked.

“Actually, yes.” Faeliya’s face lit up again and she pulled out her backpack. “Last night in Icecrown Citadel, I just kept finding all this cloth everywhere.” And the mage began to pull out an impossibly large amount of folded cloth from the reaches of her bag. “I kept thinking, if only Nephthys was here, she could knit all this into some cute mittens or a cloak or something….”

The mage’s patronizing rambling only irritated Nephthys more. She felt a ball of heat growing in her palms and she smiled at the thought of unleashing an Incinerate spell on her. She fantasized about watching those precious new robes of hers smolder and fall away while Nephthys laughed and laughed.

But the mage didn’t realize what Nephthys was smiling about so she said, “You’re welcome. I don’t want you sitting here all by yourself, lonely and thinking that we don’t care about you anymore.” But she realized then that her words were the measure of a guilty conscience so she quickly added, “We care.” And she pointed to the massive mountain of frostweave cloth.

“What was that?” Nephthys asked, vaguely aware that the mage was still talking to her, but she hadn’t a clue what she had been saying. Faeliya breathed a little sigh of relief and changed the subject.

“I said, we really could’ve used you last night.” She chuckled, fondly remembering the raid. “There we were, the ten of us and not an enchanter among us! What were the odds??”

“Yes, what _are _the odds…” Nephthys scowled. She hadn’t really thought the mage was referring to her spellcasting skill to begin with – the warlock was still far from max-level and only clothed in assorted quest rewards – but still, the implication was clear: Nephthys was good for professions and not much else.

Nephthys pursed her lips in irritation and her eyes narrowed into tiny slits. She felt her restraint fading fast. In fact, this whole situation was quickly pushing her over her limits, and Faeliya was still rambling on about her raid. Just for fun, Nephthys targeted the mage and began to cast a spell. _Invalid_. She frowned and casually flagged for PvP. _Invalid_. "Oh, really?" Nephthys quipped, feigning interest in the ongoing story. In reality, she had placed her hand on the mage's arm as a casual means of turning _her_ PvP flag on. But the spell message still said invalid and Nephthys frowned, dissappointed. Try as she may, she just could not mark the mage as a hostile target in order to attack her.

Sighing, Nephthys gave in. “I take it you need some gear disenchanted then?”

“Yes, I do!” The perky voice said. And no sooner had she asked than a pile of random armor appeared at her feet, glittering green and shimmering with magical essence. “Oh thanks a lot, Neph, you’re the best!”

The mage gave her a quick hug again, oblivious to the way Nephthys glared at her, imagining the mage’s head exploding in a burst of radiating shadow energy.

“Oh! Dungeon Queue!” Faeliya happily yelped. “Gotta go! Bye Neph!” And in another instant, she was gone.  Nephthys growled in irritation and cast a Seed of Corruption into the first thing she could find. It happened to be one of Jeremiah Payson’s cockroachs.  It exploded, along with others around it, in a spray of shadow magic and insect entrails and Nephthys instantly felt a little better. The pet vendor was yelling at her now, but she told him to be quiet before she _made him quiet_. It was the Undercity, for the Lady’s sake, there were eighteen million other cockroaches he could catch and sell.

Nephthys grumbled and toed the pile of armor at her feet. At least she had something to do this afternoon then. As she began to rummage through the pile, her eyes came to rest on a pretty cloth sash. She picked it up and held it next to the one she was wearing. Comparing the two, she found the new sash to be superior quality and prettier too. Not that she cared about things like prettiness, she justified, not quite believing herself. But since it had been tossed away like garbage by the mage, it was free game for Nephthys to keep for herself. She would find this rather useful actually… if she ever grew into it, that is.

Nephthys took the sash and walked over to the banker again. “What would you ask of death?” he said grimly. She ignored his comment again and placed the sash into one of the bags. She looked at it with a touch of hope and a pang of sadness. Maybe someday she would have use of it. Maybe someday, she thought grimly, when she finally got to set foot outside of the Undercity again.


End file.
